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Captain Clarkson and the Age of Thump - a retelling of the legend of Icarus in modern political satire
“Quite frankly the engines are too big,” said Professor Jeremy Icarus Corbyn, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his white lab coat.
“Nooo! We need more power to push to the stars,” returned Captain Jeremy Jimmie Clarkson.
Corbyn looked into the eyes of his boss, towering above: with his smart but shabby RAF uniform, acres of gold braid, and ranks of brave medals. Corbyn knew he was fighting a losing battle.
“If the base wasn’t locked down,” continued Corbyn, “…if you hadn’t locked it down…we could consult the board of professors, they could tell you.”
“But we can’t, so it looks like it’s just you and me.”
“You, me, and May.”
“Yes, yes.”
Corbyn thought back to when Clarkson had arrived. It had been an ordinary day at RAF Secret Base 101, a high-security base deep in the heart of England and even deeper underground. Corbyn had been looking over the plans for the Deep Space 666 …